The Parakeet
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A hole was dug, Kenny was placed in a small box
Tears trickled down,
down,
down
Only six months of life
He would stand on our shoulder, preen our hair,
fly around the room
Then at night he would go into his cage, locked away, covered
One morning there he lay upon the floor of the cage
gone forever from our presence
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2016
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